Spiderman Oneshots

Texting

Peter slumped down further in his chair, hair flying over his eyes as he sighed tiredly. Pages of equations were spread across the surface of the shared desk as Ned scribbled away furiously beside him. Dim lights flickered as the ominously ticking clock alerted Peter of how slowly time was currently crawling by. Rain beat against the windows harshly, reflecting Peter's gloomy attitude towards the subject he was subjected to.

Tired eyes, messy hair, lopsided frown: Peter looked a wreck.

Flash had not been helping Peter's case. Constant jibes and threats were thrown towards Peter, each taunt craftier than the last. On another day Peter may wonder where these taunts came from, today, he was in no mood. Thunder fought for dominance above the school, shaking the classroom walls. Mathematics was already a dampener on his mood, the thought of patrolling throughout a thunderstorm simply stuck to the back of his mind like Peter sticking to a building.

Hidden away in the filthy pockets of Peter's school bag laid his discarded Starkphone that buzzed with the promise of an incoming text. With enhanced senses, Peter's ears twitched at the noise, his eyes darting to the bag by his feet.

Peter rushed forward, swiping his bag off the floor and into his lap. With small movements, Peter unzipped the school bag in a painfully slow manner. His intentions included not alerting the majority of the class that he was going to pull a phone out of the musty bag. It was forbidden in this class - the teacher like a hawk, constantly spying out those who dared go against her rules.

"Peter no," Ned whispered, he understood Peter and his constant need to check his phone. His excuse usually compiled of 'what if Mr Stark needs me' or 'what if it's an Avengers meeting'. Thunderous roars from the skies managed to hide Ned's whisper from the class, but Ned knew Peter's enhanced hearing caught his words. Peter simply sent Ned a side glance, of course, his body was riddled with fear. This teacher was no saint and didn't possess a single forgiving bone in her body. Peter could not back down now, his hands trembled uneasily as the zip slid open wide enough to fit his hand.

Unforeseen dangers lurked in Peter's bag, things he could only hope his fingers didn't run into. His suit resided in a secret compartment but that didn't mean he was safe from three-day-old turkey meatloaf Peter had hidden in his bag. Aunt May created many eyebrow-raising meals that Peter was positive were inedible. In an attempt to protect her feelings, he often hid food in his bag - forgetting to take it back out and throw it away at the bins at school.

It was too late now, Peter's grubby hand brushed a smooth, glass surface. Immediately, he proceeded to dig it out as a triumphant grin spread across his face. The screen, previously dimmed, shone a dim light on Peter's face as it was brought to life. It was a teenagers pride and joy, but for Peter, it simply served as a way to contact his beloved mentor Mr Stark.

Flicking off pieces of turkey from the device, Peter skillfully inputs his passcode for his phone. The instant joy obvious on his face as one of his favourite contacts flashed on the screen. Peter glanced up inconspicuously, and upon seeing the teacher occupied with grading freshman tests, he proceeded.

Mr Stark: Spangles n co wants to know if you want to swing by the tower tonight. May said it's fine if you're back by 12

Peter bit his lip, thinking of a reply in his head. Of course he wanted to go, dinner with the Avengers was always exciting. He didn't wish to look too eager. His thoughts were quickly interrupted as his phone buzzed in his hands.

Mr Stark: I know you read this kid

You: Yeah I'll swing by afterschool
You: Is Cap really back? Did he bring Bucky with him?

"Woah, dinner with the Avengers," Ned whispered impressed, "so cool, so so cool." They both jumped as the increasingly loud thunder crashed in the sky above, scaring the class as a whole.